Dracula Page #2

She died.

l'm very sorry.

She was fortunate.

My life, at its best, is misery.

She will no doubt

make a devoted wife.

And you a faithful husband.

Come.

Write now, my friend,

to your firm. . .

. . .and to any loved ones,

and say that it shall please you. . .

. . .to stay with me. . .

. . .until a month from now.

A month?

Do you wish me to stay so long?

l will take no refusal.

Diary, 30th of May, 1 897.

I know Jonathan does not want me to

stay here with Lucy while he is away.

He thinks that if I become accustomed

to the wealth of the Westenra family...

...I will not be content as the wife

of a mere clerk in a law firm.

but Lucy and I have been friends

since we were children...

...and she has never minded

that I am only a schoolmistress.

how disgustingly awful.

Mina!

Oh, Mina, you're always working.

ls your ambitious Jon harker. . .

. . .forcing you to learn

that ridiculous machine?

When he could be forcing you

to perform. . .

. . .unspeakable acts of desperate

passion on the parlour floor.

Lucy, really.

You shouldn't talk about

my fiance in such a way.

There's more to marriage

than carnal pleasure.

Oh, Mina. So l see.

Much, much more.

That's--

What is it, Lucy?

Because l don't understand it.

Can a man and woman really do. . .

. . .that?

l did, only last night.

-fibber. You did not.

-Yes, l did.

Well, in my dreams.

Jonathan measures up,

doesn't he?

You can tell Lucy.

We've kissed. That's all.

he thinks he's too poor

to marry me.

And it's all the worse now that

l'm here visiting you at hillingham. . .

. . .my rich friend.

Yes, but not even

one marriage proposal.

And here l am, almost 20. . .

. . .practically a hag.

Mr. Quincey P. Morris.

-Oh, look.

-What is that?

A Texan.

Quincey P. Morris.

he's so young and fresh. . .

. . .like a wild stallion

between my legs.

You're positively indecent.

l just know what men desire.

Watch.

-Quincey, darling.

-Miss Lucy.

Why, you're as fresh

as the spring rain.

Oh, thank you.

Please let me touch it.

lt's so big.

Little girl.

Oh, my dear,

sweet little girl.

l hold your hand. . .

-. . .and you've kissed me.

-Jack!

Oceans of love--

Oh, Jack, my darling.

Poor little baby.

My kitten, come over here.

Come over here

and l'll kiss it better.

My poor little blossom.

My poor little doctor.

Brilliant doctor.

-hello, Quincey.

-Jack.

What a naughty bear.

Let me--

-Arthur holmwood, Esquire.

-Arthur!

Oh, my darling.

Oh, you look wonderful.

l'm so sorry about your hat.

-Charming.

-lt's my snake dress.

ls it really?

Lucy is a pure

and virtuous girl...

...but I admit that her free way

of speaking shocks me sometimes.

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